It's A Real Buster...

Since we're all enjoying my pain, I thought I'd share a post about another who enjoys my pain, enjoys it very much in fact.

I get frequent sinus infections.

That's not the funny part. Wait for it ...

I get lots of congestion and swollen sinus passages. I actually feel like those people you see on the commercials who have big, swollen balloon heads. It often gets so bad I seriously consider pricking the skin next to my nose so see if my head will deflate semi-explosively, sending me rocketing about the room with a long, drawn out farting noise, like a balloon released by a child.

The only thing that seems to help is nasal spray. It shrinks the tissues in my nasal passages just like it's supposed to, providing blessed relief... for a while. See, that's the thing. Eventually, through over-use, the nasal spray loses its effectiveness, and in the end it's actually exacerbating the problem.

This is not good.

When it gets to this point, I turn to a special kind of nasal spray. It's called Sinus Buster. Sinus Buster is a nasal spray based on capsacian. Yup, that's right. Hot pepper. Like the pepper spray women can use to fight off assailants, and sometimes keep their kids in line. Only with this stuff, you're spraying it directly up your nose.

Oh. My. God.

Now, this does have the effect of constricting the tissues in your sinus cavity, which is exactly what I'm looking for. The problem is that I'm a great big humongous baby when it comes to hot, spicy stuff. Food. Drink. Whatever. I get all weepy, and hate whatever it is. I like bland foods - I prefer English food to French, if that's any indication. And yet here I am spraying capsacian extract directly up onto the extremely sensitive and permeable tissues inside my nose.

Oh. My. God.


So I'll do that. 2-3 quick sprays and deep sniffs in each nostril. I have to do it fast, trying to get the 2nd and 3rd sniff up there before the pain hits, because when it does there will be no more sniffing up that side. I can try, but my body rejects it and I go into a sort of hysterical paralysis, and I can't bring the bottle all the way to my nose until it passes. But I do it all quickly, and I get the 2nd and maybe 3rd sniff up that first nostril. And then the pain hits.

Oh. My. God.

My nose burns, and I wonder if some weirdo has swapped my nasal spray for acid as some stuff, practical joke. But no, it's just pain, not damage. Pain that spreads to the cavity behind my nose and beneath my eye. It fills the cavity to capacity, then more, pressing against the back of the eyeball, sneaking in the back door of that orb and filling it as well. There is too much pain in that eye, not enough room, for all the pain, but the pain isn't going anywhere. Somewhere along the way, the pain talks to the vision in that eye, telling it 'this eye ain't big enough for the both of us'. Vision turns tail and flees, leaving me with one blind, pain-filled eye.

That's all on the inside. On the outside I find I've clapped my hand to my eye, though I'm not sure if I'm trying to hold my eyeball in or simply rip the damn thing out and be done with it. I've started making a strange sound, most of it coming through my nose, a lot like Felix Unger from the Odd Couple television show, like the sound is going to somehow drive the pain out of my nose, allowing it to then drain from my eye. There is a strange, disconnected pain at the back of my head on that side now, like the pain has grown too large for the cavity in there and has pushed out into other tissue, has invaded the base of my skull.

Oh. My. God.

And then it begins to pass, as if the pain has gone all out for too long and has exhausted itself. Punched itself out. Sprinted itself into a huge cramp. I'm usually on my knees by the time this happens, and tears are flowing down my face. Whether the tears are from me crying or simply my eyes watering is immaterial. I think it's both, but I don't really care. I'm just glad the pain is subsiding before I've gone completely mad.

Right about now is when Handsome shows up. He has been watching the whole thing, and he's been laughing like a manic the whole time. Now, though, he's not laughing. He's smiling like a fool, though, and his eyes shine with anticipation. He's holding out the bottle of Sinus Buster to me, the bottle I dropped while I was in extremis.


"You still have to do the other side, don't you?" he says to me, his voice mixed notes of hope and glee.

The terrible part is, he's right. I do.

Oh. My. God.

Talk to you later!